


Sleeves

by Count_OLoaf



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Hannibal is still a cannibal, Havent thought that far ahead, High School AU, M/M, Maybe underage?, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Count_OLoaf/pseuds/Count_OLoaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is sent to the counselor's  office. Hannibal is the counselor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pink Paper

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how fast or how motivated i'll be to update this to be honest. If anyone actually wants to read more let me know and i'll get on that. Fair warning, I don't quite know where i'm going with this, but if all goes to plan, there will be a lot of chapters. Thank-you for looking at this, I hope you enjoy. Let me know of any consistency or grammar issues and i'll be sure to fix them. Y'all can contact me here, or, follow me on tumblr: ofalarger-infinity

Will Graham didn’t have many friends and he had certainly been bullied before, but this was a new low even for the scum filled the halls of this godforsaken high school. Sending people to the counselors was just something you never did. Unless someone specifically drew attention to their problems, the lines on their wrists, their rapid weight loss, or their sudden inability to remain sober, their problems were theirs, because in this little hell hole masquerading as a place of academic enrichment everyone was struggling to hold their heads above water. Whether they dealt with it with razor blades or hypodermic needles, for the most part, these things went unmentioned among the students.  
Will had thought he hid the puffy red lines on his forearms well enough, but when the office aid walked into his third period Psych class carrying a bright pink counselor’s slip, Will somehow knew it was for him. Ms. Bloom tried to give it to him discreetly, but the Will wasn’t the only one fearing for the safety of their secrets, and a good majority of the class was following that bright pink sheet to see whose desk it was destined for. It landed on Will’s and he felt panicked. Half the class breathed out a tense sigh of relief, and another portion took in a curious breath, but Will felt breathless.  
He did his best to keep his hands from shaking as he gathered his stuff and walked out, but at the moment, it wasn’t easy. The counselor would find out, then his dad, and Satan only knows what he’ll do when he finds out. Will pulled his jacket sleeves over his hands and held them there as he walked towards Dr. Lecter’s office.  
As if getting sent to the counselors wasn’t enough, the school’s only counselor was Dr. Lecter. He wasn’t like the typical wise professor or the caring grandmother archetype one would hope for in a counselor. Though Will had never met the man, everyone talked about how cold he seemed. He was a good therapist, but he seemed… strange, like he shouldn’t be a high school counselor. He should be very far from this line of work.  
Will reached his office and took a few deep gulps of air before he cautiously knocked on the door.  
“Will Graham?” A clear and slightly accented, though Will could not place it, called out. The man behind the door wasn’t at all what Will had expected. He was young, late twenties or early thirties and dressed to the nine’s in a three piece suit of rich colors that a high school counselor shouldn’t be able to afford. His entire demeanor stood out from the white cinderblock walls that stood behind him. He was strong, tall, and held himself in a very professional way. And, Will might add, he was, in a strange way, very handsome.  
“Y-yes?” Will managed to stammer.  
“Good, Come in.”  
The office was impeccably decorated. It looked much classier than a school office. Will waited until Dr. Lecter stood in front of his desk before he approached the desk. Even the desk seemed out of place, it was certainly not a chair the district would supply.  
“I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Graham.” He said holding a hand out towards Will. It was a trap. Will couldn’t refuse a hand shake so he stretched his arm out preying his sleeve wouldn’t fall. It did, but will wasn’t sure if Dr. Lecter noticed his inflamed wrist because, as was typical of Will, he wasn’t looking at his eyes.  
Dr. Lecter made no comment on his wrist, and, instead, sat. “Not fond of eye contact, are you?”

Will sat in the seat in front of him. “No, sir. Eyes are distracting you see too much, you don’t see enough. And-And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um, “Oh, those whites are really white,” or, “He must have hepatitis,” or, “Oh, is that a burst vein?” So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.” Will let his eye venture for a moment to Dr. Lecter’s just to prove his point, and found his eyes to be the perfect example of distraction. The Doctor’s eyes were deep maroon color that Will was previously unaware was a possibility for eyes. His eye were deep and rich like blood, but sweeter, and Will found himself quickly entrapped by his really white whites.  
Dr. Lecter smiled and leaned forward in his chair. This was going to be a very intriguing meeting. “So, Will, how are you today?”  
Dr. Lecter’s voice drew Will from the enchantment, and he quickly regretted letting himself look. How long had he been staring? ”I’m fine.” Will said self-consciously pulling his sleeves over his hands again.  
Dr. Lecter tilted his eyebrow. “You’re fine?”  
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” Will said as convincingly as possible.  
“Well,” Dr. Lecter placed his forearms on the desk. “A fellow classmate and your wrist would suggest otherwise.”  
“What classmate would that be?” Will scoffed. Clearly it was no one that cared for him, no one did.  
According to school policy, that information was supposed to be kept confidential, but Lecter had little regard for stupid rules. And he was curious what young Will would do.  
The Doctor leaned to look at a file on his desk. “A young man by the name of... Mike Rotch?” Dr. Lecter sat back with and apprehensive look in his eye.  
Will didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry for the clever little bastard that was slowly tearing the self-inflicted scabs off of the thin skin of his self-worth. But being in a consolers office made his choice quite clear. Will laughed a quite convincing laugh and put his head down, his pain disguised by a smile.  
“What is it Will? Do you know this man?” the poor doctor was pitifully confused.  
“My Crotch? Yes I believe we have meet a few times.” Will Muttered.  
Lecter sighed. “I see.” He could see Will much clearer now. A poor kid tormented at school for what had to be a long time to have such a profound impact on his ability for appropriate eye contact, and his ability to laugh at such things that clearly pained him. He was scraggly looking, poorly groomed wearing thrift store clothes, and bordering on malnutrition. School wasn’t the only source of pain for the poor Will, his home might even be worse. He was brilliant, as far as grades go, and his personality was pure gold from the small sample Lecter had had so far. With a proper haircut and actual clothes, the boy would be very handsome.  
“And this is funny to you?” Dr. Lecter asked. Even though the prank was not in any way affiliated with him, he had a very low tolerance for rudeness and he felt a burning desire to feed the poor scum in a rich Cumberland sauce to the thin boy sitting before him.  
“Its comedic gold, I will give him that.”  
“Even so, to mock someone’s instability and weaknesses in this manor is terribly rude.”  
The false smile faded from Will’s face and he raised his head slightly. “Do you think I’m weak and unstable?” Will asked any hope gone from his voice.  
Dr. Lecter laced his fingers over his lap. “Do you think you are weak and unstable, Will?”  
Will didn’t want to answer that. He knew he wasn’t, but at the same time he whole-heartedly believed it like a priest believed in Jesus. His religion was his self-hate. He was weak because he couldn’t hide it. He took a minute to think and when Dr. Lecter asked him again he knew he had taken more than a minute.  
In his mind he said ‘Of course not. I’m a bad ass motherfucker and I am better than all of the scum of this school and someday I will believe it.’ But instead, he let out one exhale so deep it let out a part of him he usually kept hidden and said, “Of course I am. I’m a fucking freak.” On any typical day, what he thought and what he said would be switched, but for some reason, his guard slipped and he broke.  
Dr. Lecter raised a brow at the language and cocked his head to the side. “And what makes you think that?”  
“Don’t do that.” Will said shakily.  
“Do what?”  
“Psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” Will bravely raised his head trying to meet the Doctor’s eyes, but he stopped at his nose and turned away.  
Doctor Lecter paused, opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it. He reached for the brightly colored pass Will laid on the desk and crumpled it into a little ball.  
Will watched the doctor with arched eyebrows.  
When Will still did not respond, Dr. Lecter reached for a new pad of paper and scribbled on it before handing it to Will.  
In a gorgeously smooth script the doctor wrote him a pass back to class. “In that case, you may leave.”  
“Just like that? No lecture no conference with my parents? Nothing?”  
“Its an important lesson everyone must learn sometime in their lives. You cannot help those who do not want help. However, I’ll still be here, should you want it. Good luck with your crotch.” The doctor smirked at his joke.  
Will was almost pained that he had to leave. Something about Doctor Lecter made him want to stay. “Thanks.” Will said, crossing the room to leave.  
“Goodbye, Mr. Graham.”


	2. Matthew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's only friend, Matthew Brown, takes Will to a party. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little Brownham in this chapter. Sorry for everyone here for the hannigraham, it's on its way I promise. A little mention of abuse, nothing bad, but i just want to cover all the bases. Thanks for the kudos! Again, you may comment or correct any mistakes I've overlooked here or find me on tumblr: ofalarger-infinity.

1 new message:  
Matthew Brown  
“Hey, the teams going to Jackson’s house tonight, you up?”  
Will Threw his backpack across his room as hard as he could using only one hand. With the other hand clenched around his cracked phone. Will Graham could quite honestly say that Matthew Brown was the only friend he’s ever known. Only because, Will theorized, pre-school students are far more accepting than most children. Of course Matthew is probably only still around Will out of pity. A star swimmer like him has a plethora of friendship opportunities to choose from, and he was hardly first choice, Will thought. Going to a party of strangers was the last thing on Earth Will Graham wanted to do, but if he said no, Matthew would have picked him up anyway.  
Matthew's car was idled outside Will Graham's drive way within the next hour. Will pried open his window pane, sealed shut in the warming weather. He winced as the pane crackled in his palms, paused and waited to see if he was heard. The smashing of a glass from the room below him, proved he would not be noticed. A few lines of screams- the meaning of which lost in a slur of many incoherent curses floated through the floorboards masking any sound he made. Will shimmied across his windowsill and latched onto a long forgotten basketball hoop. Forgotten is less of an appropriate term, as it implies it had once been used for anything other than this purpose- escaping. Will ran across the steaming concrete and into Matthew's car. It reeked of chlorine and stale french fries and weed.  
"They're really goin' at it t'night, huh?" Matthew asked.  
Will shrugged. "Doesn't matter you already won the bet, girlfriend #9 has lasted for more than 3 months."  
An awkward laugh escaped Matthew's frown. "Well, fuck them anyways. Let's get druuuuunk."  
The party was at one of the wealthier and worse members of the swim team, Fred Chilton. His parents weren't around for the next two weeks, and wouldn't have cared either way should they be there. Almost everyone from both the girls team and boys team was there- with friends- making use of all the extra square footage. There was more alcohol than water in the enormous swimming pool, so Will could mind the people.  
"Ha hey! Mat! Mat, we need your expert opinion," Fred wrapped his arm around his friend pulling him further towards the backyard  
"What do you think, 1-10 how sexy is Martha's swimsuit?"  
And like that, Matthew was gone in a crowd of people, leaving Will alone in a darkened foyer, empty for all except one grossly passionate couple who seemed to think they were hidden in the shadows of the stairs.  
Will always hoped Matthew would stay near his side, but he never did quite understand the extent of how much Will could not interact with people. He always acted like Will was the best friend he'd ever known in private, but in public Will always had to take a number. Will couldn't blame him. If it were up to Will, he wouldn't even give himself a number.  
Will made his way through the impeccable house and into the backyard and over to the table of drinks. Underneath the table cloth, he found a large mostly full bottle of cheap vodka, the other half likely residing inside the punch. Will took three shots when no one was looking, then filled a glass with more vodka and a little soda. Part of him screamed to finally talk to someone. The other screamed to not. Across the yard he could see Matthew with the best swimmers and a party-sized bong.  
Will filled his time waiting in the bathroom queue and waiting a few minutes to leave. He'd revisit the refreshments table, walk a few laps around the party. Wave to the people he had a class or two with, only two of whom waved back. One girl- who seemed to be in a similar situation to Will's- talked to him. She was much more drunk than him. That conversation lasted a good 5 minutes before Will had to pry the poor girl off of his lap. He went back to the bathroom line, and decided in the bathroom to refill on vodka then find a quiet room.  
There were two guest rooms on the downstairs level that seemed too conveniently open. He found the less attractive one and threw up in the bathroom before breaking down and sobbing on the floor.  
He didn't quite know why. As if you need a real reason to cry when you’re drunk. He cried because of what happened today. He cried because he was cold. He cried because his dad was an abusive shit that. He cried because someone looked at him funny. He cried because he didn’t like his socks. He cried because he could. Inside a cute little box he found a packet of disposable razors and scissors. But he threw them across the room, and cried because he needed them.  
Then he just cried.  
What could have been an hour or more but was more likely only a few minutes, Matthew found him.  
"Hey, dude! I was looking for you! What are you doing?!" The still packaged razor was still in  
Wills clenched hand.  
"Dude."  
Will must have accidentally had much more than vodka, or Matthew had more than weed because Will found himself curled in the fetal position in Matthew's arms.  
"Dude, I love you, you don't need that shit please."  
Matthew was shaking. Will was dazed to find him crying. "I love you, don't you see that you don't need this shit. You are so much better than these people- you're so much better than your dad- you are sure as hell much better than you fucking understand. I just want you to see that."  
Will drunkenly pulled him down into a kiss. A sloppy kiss, as will had never had a kiss before. He regretted it before he completely realized what he had done.  
But when Matthew didn't pull away, Will didn't stop.  
Matthew put a hand around Will's neck and leaned down into his kiss.  
Will felt a liberating feeling of joy that for once, he realized Matthew might love him as much- and in the same way- that he loved him.  
In a frenzy, Will pushed back against Matthew and pinned him to the ground. He kissed Matthew again, and Matthew pressed a hand against Will's crotch.  
It was the first emotion Will could properly feel for months. Hope and joy and acceptance. It was so euphoric he forgot where he was. He forgot who he was.  
The screams and the laughter behind him meant nothing until Matthew pushed against Will, and pushed him back onto the icy floor.  
Fred and two other swimmers Chad and Alan both stood in the doorway, phones at the ready, laughing.  
"Holy shit! Mat! You faggot!"  
Mat locked eyes with Will, frightened. He stood before Will could full grasp the situation.  
"Will forced me! God, I told y'all he was too attached to me! What the fuck is wrong with you, Will? Jesus, I knew you were a freak!"  
The swim team was laughing. More at Will than anything else.  
"You fucking fag." Matthew spat at him.  
More unexpected than his kiss, more sudden than his words, the surprise of his foot jammed into Will's stomach sent him Will flying back into the bathtub wall more so than the kick.  
He kicked him again for good measure.  
"Find your own god damned ride home." Matthew left, followed by Fredrick. Chad and Alan dragged Will, already coughing up his own blood, back into the bedroom and through to the front porch. There was hardly anyone left at the party so no one stayed to help or watch.  
The both took turns kicking and cursing until, like a soccer ball they had kicked Will off of the porch and into the drive way.  
When they finally left, Will emptied his stomach into the left over Christmas poinsettias. After the fifth time he puked, his head felt clear enough to stand. And in the last hours of darkness he crawled and stumbled his way 2 miles home.  
His father was passed out in his own vomit. The girlfriend blacked out with traces of pure white cocaine around her nose.  
He fell into bed and didn't move until Sunday night.


	3. House of Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes to work and finds an unexpected customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short bit that's not really relevant to the plot, but look! I figured out how to do the paragraph thing! sorry about that, I guess I should go back and fix that one of these days. Thank you all so much for even looking at this, kudos mean so much.

It was around 3 pm when Will woke up again. He wandered downstairs to find his dad haphazardly thrown onto the couch and the girlfriend missing. The kitchen was a mess and there was still broken glass on the floor. The fridge was emptied aside from last week’s Chinese take-out, cheap beers, and milk, but Will realized he didn’t want to try and eat food yet anyway, so he went back upstairs.

His stomach was bruised unrecognizably. His face was relatively unscathed, but a slight bruise beneath his chin. He had had worse before, but this seemed to hurt much deeper. He washed his curly brown hair in the sink and crawled back beneath the sheets of his bed.

From his bed he could see past the basketball hoop and far down the street. Usually this would be when Matthew and him would go see a movie or smoke in the Whataburger parking lot. Saturdays were their days, since preschool.

It came upon will like bricks, the realization he couldn’t talk to Matthew. There was a new emptiness inside Will, he had never really cared about the fact he only had one friend because that one friend was always there. Now he wasn’t. Now he really was a looser.

Three Benadryl tablets later it didn’t matter, he was asleep.

 

 

Sunday came with loud howls echoing through the house. Will had overslept and his dad wasn’t happy. The sunlight was barely streaming through Will’s blinds. Sunday was the day Will worshiped in the house of the lord. The lord of cars, that is. This, historically, had been the day that his mother would take him to church then drop him off at his father’s work- an auto repair shop, where he could spend quality time with his father, learning all about his work while his mother finished her chores.

Since Will’s mother’s deaths and since she was the only religious one in this house hold, Sundays had become less of a father-son bonding experience and more of a day where Will went into work for his dad so his dad could get the chores done. And by chores of course, his dad meant poker and beer with his friends and topped it off with a Sunday dinner at the most popular breastraunt in town.

The bruises on Will’s chin and abdomen darkened from yesterday and now his chin was clearly brusied.

He hustled downstairs to find that it wasn’t the fact Will had overslept that sent Will’s father into a frenzy, but the dozens and dozens of eggs caked onto both of their cars. ‘Faggots’ was written in silly string on the driveway, garage door, and front porch.

Will wanted to barf. He had almost forgotten.

“So yer a faggot now?” embers of anger swelled inside his belly. Will’s dad started as he turned to Will. Either Will looked really ashamed already, or the bruise on his chin was more prominent than he thought, because his dad’s face softened.

“Get this shit cleaned up before ya go into work.” He said, walking back into the house.

He didn’t have to tell Will twice. He scrapped the dried silly string and washed the cars in record time, the sun had only barely risen, but he had made it before any of his neighbors awakened to see the mess. The eggs took a little more work, but the damage was unrecognizable from a far. Still, he waxed his dad’s car just to be sure. The work made his whole body ache and burn, but it was smothered by the rising embarrassment in his stomach.

He was late to work, not that anyone aside from his dad could tell him off about it, seeing as they owned the place. Thankfully enough, there wasn’t much work to do in the shop, do Will took the job of filling paperwork and filling out orders inside the office.

The day was slow, only a few people came in the morning. A little after 12, Will looked up from the computer to see Dr. Lecter standing over him.

“Will Graham?” the strangely accented voice asked.

“Um, Doctor Lecter?”

“So you must be the Graham of the ‘Graham repair shop’.” The doctor smiled.

“Yea, yes that’s me.” Will kept his head down, hoping to hide the bruise. Another consoler’s visit was the last thing Will wanted after this weekend. “Is there something you need?”

“Yes, I am here to pick up my car, I dropped it off this morning for an oil change. It is the black Bentley.” Will glanced down at the list of customers from today and scoffed. “You drive a Bentley?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, I just, I just didn’t know school counselors made that much.” Will found Dr. Lecter’s name and frowned. “Sorry, that was rude. It will probably be ready soon, let me go check.”

Will’s face glowed with embarrassment, but he couldn’t quite place the source. There were several ones he could choose from. The mechanic was just finishing the complementary wax given to the more wealthy customers. The nicer cars help raise reputation and revenue so the more that came back the better.

Will returned to tell the doctor about his car. He forgot to keep his chin down. “It should only be a moment, If you could sign here.” Will handed him a form, “And if you would like to join our rewards program,” Will continued, he realized his mistake and he could feel the doctors eyes burrowing into him so deep they might have left bruises of their own.

The door-bell chimed and a young mother walked in with a young child.

“It will be out in moment, I’ll get your keys for you then. If you’d please wait.” Will said turning to the new customer pretending not to notice the doctor’s continued stares.

The woman turned out to be meeting one of the mechanics for his lunch break and just needed to use the restroom.

“They’re right too your left, ma’am. Would you like me to tell Alex you’re here?” “No, thank-you, he knows.” She then disappeared leaving Will with the doctor.

The doctor stepped back to the desk. “Are you alright, Will?”

Will looked down at the papers strewed before him. “I’m peachy.”

“Are you sure, Will?”

Will smiled and fought back the scream that burbled in his chest.

“Whatever happened to you being okay with me not needing your help?”

The doctor stepped forward. “You may not want my help, Will, but I’m going to need much more evidence in the way of you not needing my help. You have a hefty case load if that’s what you want to plea. It’s true you cannot help those who do not want help. But there will come a time when need over comes wants and I surely hope that you can turn to me when that day arrives and not a razor.”

Will almost threw the keys at him, unable to meet his eyes. “Your car is ready, Dr. Lecter.” Will spat.

After the doctor left, he told the head mechanic that he had thrown up in the bathroom and needed to go home early. It wasn’t until after he said that, he realizes he couldn’t go home until 5.

He drove to the Whataburger parking lot, scarfed down a burger seeing as he hadn’t eaten since Friday, and dug his blade from his wallet.

Doctor Lecter’s rang in his ears and stung in his eyes until he was sobbing and covered in his own blood. Then he fell asleep. Purged of all feeling and all thought.


	4. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monday after the party, Will goes to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, School is starting back up and a lot of things have been happening. Thanks again for all of y'all's support. I will try to keep this updated as often as i can!

Monday arrived with a package of anxiety that should have kept the young Will Graham in bed. However, Will, who returned from Whataburger to fall asleep on top of his Calculus homework, was so frazzled by the unfinished homework before him, that, momentarily he forgot everything in a mad rush to finish the work before he had to leave.   
Will was still early for school, unfortunately, and had to wait in the school courtyard.   
  
The weather felt like a broken sauna. It was slightly Too cold to be a sauna, but still the wet air around Will stuck to him like a second skin that made him sweat. Not many people where here yet. Only a small crowd gathered under the small overhang of the school. Matthew was there. He looked pale. His shoulders slumped in a way that only Will would notice. He kept it together though- smiling and laughing with his team mates so no one but Will would know. The thing about friends, is you can know more about them then they know about themselves and you can love them more than your own life, and still they might not even notice.   
Will sat and tried to finish his homework in the few minutes he had.   
  
Because Matthew Brown couldn't label and sort through the feelings he had for William Graham he put them all into one file in the place he kept all bad and confusing issues. He put them behind a door he kept well barricaded with drugs and distractions. Of course it wasn't until Saturday that he realized what those feelings meant. It wasn't until Saturday that he realized why he didn't want to date Alana Bloom. It wasn't until Saturday that he realized how utterly perfect Will Graham was. He looked over at him now, while his team mates were distracted, and saw his stupid curls and boyish round face and hid his smile. Will Graham was beautiful and Matthew hid it from himself for so long. He couldn't look too long- or his teammates would think worse than they already did. He looked at his feet and blushed thinking about Will's lips against his.   
  
Across the courtyard, in the parking lot, Fred and Alan got out of Fred's shiny black Mercedes. Will could hear their voices above the others around him- yelling as they usually did- and a jolt of fear stabbed its way through his spine. Will kept his head down and scribbled his way through another problem.   
  
Matthew saw them too. He saw their smirks. He saw them point to Will. He saw them laugh. He saw them walk towards Will. Matthew didn't move. He saw Alan kick at Will's bag. He looked away and saw no more.   
  
"What's up, fuck boy?" Fred said, grabbing Wills textbook. “AP Calculus? I thought girls were bad at math?"   
  
  
They laughed. Alan's teeth stoke out at weird angles and they were yellowed from his excessive dipping. The high-pitched screech of a bell interrupted their boyish laughter. Will stood.   
  
"Where do you think you're going, fag?" Alan pushed Will against the brick school wall. "We were talkin!"  
  
Dr. Lecter was on duty in the courtyard that morning. Most days there were at least two teachers to make sure the kids didn't act up, but Mme. DuPont had an emergency French National Honors Society meeting so Dr. Lecter had to manage on his own today. As the kids were filing into the school, he no doubt noticed the trio that stayed a little behind. He obviously could see as one of the boys pushed Will against the wall.   
He waited until most of the children were inside the school to move. He waited until Will was on the floor, book bag ripped open, to move to stop the attack.

"Do you three not have classes to get to?" Alan's foot was raised backward prepared to kick, but he put it down and within seconds the two attackers fled.   
  
Will straightened himself out and gathered his books. The doctor crouched beside him. "Unless, of course, you want to come to my office instead?" He said, perhaps with the greatest amount of sympathy the man could manage.   
  
Will said, with as much confidence as the broken boy could manage, "No, Dr. Lecter, I do not need your help."  
  
The doctor stood and left without another word, and Will sat trying to gather his feelings and his books together before the bell.


	5. Not Helpful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone comes together and Will may finally get the help he never asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it takes so long, I'm working on a movie outside of school and several other things, so one update a week may be all I can practically do. But here it is, hopefully i'll have another chapter soon, but most certainly by next Sunday. thanks for the support! follow me on Tumblr while you're at it! ofalarger-infinity  
> love y'all

Days turned to weeks and Will turned from the quite kid no one talked to into the punching bag for all the swimmers and football players and anyone else who felt like joining in on the fun. There was no sense to why. Will Graham had never spoken to these people, most of them took regular classes and didn't have classes with him. The video hadn't been leaked- probably for Matthew's protection. Only a handful of people were even at the party and only a small percent of them knew what happened. No, there was no sense to it. Will wished he could draw a diagram of all the mistakes, failed social interactions, and wrong turns he took to get to this point but he could not. A diagram would be simple. No- the fact of the matter was and is that Will Graham was taken from the background of everyone’s daily lives and moved front and center for all to see. Three people promoted him from an extra to a supporting character and everyone could see how well he acted. It wasn't hard to imagine why Will was an easy target for mass bullying.   
  
These weeks consisted mainly of Will trying to keep himself together. He did his best at school- but it is always so much simpler to go home and cry oneself to sleep then to study for an AP test. He tried not to anger or even talk to his father- but worsening grades, torn clothes, and the fact that girlfriend #9 finally left made that goal impossible and gave Will more bruises to hide from Dr. Lecter. He even tried to put in more hours at the auto shop so he could have something to keep his mind busy, but that got old real fast when getting out of bed takes more energy than it should. His wrists and thighs paid the price. His mind was tearing his skin apart more than the bullies or his father. Still all he could do in defense was sleep, put his head back, and wade into the quite of his dreams.   
  
Matthew Brown had seen what his friends were doing to Will, but could do nothing to stop it or else he'd become a part of it. He couldn't tell them to lay off or else they'd send the video of him and Will to everyone in the school. And the church pastor- his father. He knew he had no choice- not if he wanted to live in a house. Still, Matthew looked at Will everyday with growing sadness and affection. He wanted more than anything to take him away from his father- who he knew was still beating him- and away from these bullies, and into his arms. He wanted Will to be safe. He wanted Will to be in his arms. He wanted to love Will and he wanted Will to love him back.   
  
Dr. Lecter saw Will every day. He watched as his back ached lower in the halls, as the skin beneath his eyes deepened with every new bruise on his pale skin. He even monitored his grades, which were sinking much lower than the grades of those who bullied him. It saddened Hannibal in a strange way. He had no reason to feel this attached to this boy. Yet there was something so inciting about him that made Dr. Lecter interested. He had a professional curiosity, as he would put it.   
  
Now, The Chesapeake Ripper had elaborate plans for a dinner party. One he wished he could invite young Will to- to lighten his spirits, but ethically could not do. The ingredients for the meal would be procured as soon as possible.   
  
It was on a Thursday that all these thoughts would come together. Three weeks after the party that had started it all.   
  
Thursday, 6:45 pm  
  
Will had to cover for his father at the shop tonight. It was a pretty slow week and there were only a few cars. He wasn't even needed, but there was a 75% chance that his dad would bring home "company" tonight and a 100% chance that if he went home, his paper wouldn't be written. There was a couch in the back office.   
  
Thursday, 11:38 pm  
  
There is a playground two lots down from Graham's auto shop. This late it was empty, of course. Except for one man diligently working away at his newest master piece and a young business man who tried to turn this park into a hotel. The two knew each other from this man's early career as a hotel manager where he realizes customer service was not his forte.   
  
Thursday, 11:40 pm   
  
There is a dense tree-line around the small playground, inside a forgotten old house once belonging to a groundskeeper- when this park was bigger and more popular. Now it had become a popular hangout for teenagers who needed a place to smoke. Tonight it was occupied by Alan and Fred and a few other members of the swim team- including Matthew.  
  
11:50 pm  
  
Will discovers the office is severely lacking in first aid products and goes to the convenient store separating the auto shop from the park to pick up some Advil.   
  
11:52 pm  
  
Matthew is voted to pick up munchies from the neighboring convenient store.   
  
11:57 pm  
  
Will entered the store red eyed and dizzy from sleep loss. He makes his way to the counter and buys the smallest bottle of migraine-strength Advil being sold completely unaware of Matthew watching him from behind the _icee_ machine.

Will left the convenient store, and Matthew, on an overly emotional whim, ran out after him.   
"Will!"  
Will stopped but did not turn around.   
From where these two now stood, both the cabin path and the playground were visible and very near.   
  
"Will..." Matthew stepped closer.   
  
Will did nothing.   
  
Matthew put a hand on Will's shoulder.   
  
Will flinched and did nothing.   
  
"I'm sorry,"   
  
Will didn't want his apologies. It was much too late for 'i'm sorry' the damage was done. The pain engraved in his skin. The many nights wasted in emptiness. The chunks taken from his self-worth. All were permanent and irreversible.   
  
"I didn't know what to... I mean like... I like you and if my dad- you know- if he found out..."   
  
Will opened his eyes and turned just to see if it really was Matthew standing there.   
  
Matthew misread him. Or perhaps he didn't. Maybe didn't, just like he never did, care about Will. Because when Matthew pressed his cold, chapped lips against Will's, Will couldn't tell.   
  
12:07 am  
  
The teenagers decided that Matthew had taken too long. They still had school after all.   
  
12:08 am  
  
Will just stood there, at first, and took it. He didn't trust himself enough to move.   
But Matthew took that as a 'yes' for something more and wrapped his other arm around Will.   
  
Will pushed against Matthew's chest, but Matthew didn't move.   
  
"Will don't do that," Matthew whispered bringing him closer.   
  
12:15 am  
  
The teens gather at the edge of the forest and can barely make out Matthew's silhouette underneath the dim light of the store.   
  
12:16 am  
  
"Matthew Get the FUCK OFF OF ME!" Will pushed again. His eyes flashed with a white lightning and he could no longer feel his limbs- just the electric hatred that flowed through them.   
  
"Will! I thought you liked me?" Matthew grabbed his arms.   
  
Will kicked his knee in.   
  
12:17 am   
  
The swim team noticed the hassle and sprinted to their friend's aid.   
  
12:20 am  
  
The boys find Matthew pinning Will onto the concrete. Fred pulled Matthew up, freeing Will only so Alan and the rest could pick up the flailing Will.  
  
"Fighting with your boyfriend, Will?" Fred jousted. Matthew, still in his hands elbowed him in the stomach.   
  
"Don't be so fucking gay." He pushed Fred back down to the ground and crossed the space between him and Will in a single lunge- punching Will square in the jaw prying blood from Will's mouth and excited yells from the rest.   
  
12:21 am  
  
The Chesapeake Ripper closed his bag and stepped away to view his artwork when teenage yells reached his ears. From where he stood he could see them- not clearly- but he thought he knew who.   
  
Normally, a fight like this would, practically, deterrer an uninvolved criminal, but the doctor was not ignorant enough to not know who it was hiding out in the woods. He also knew that Graham's auto had their lights on unusually late. These are the things you must know when you are committing murder in a public park.   
  
He knew it would be immensely atypical of normal playground hours for anyone to come into this park again until well after daybreak.   
  
He clung to the shadows of the convenient store- Trained and silent. It was hard sneaking up in a full plastic suit. He watched as the three boys pinned Will and beat him into the ground. One on each arm, another- he could not quite tell which one because he was looking at their backs- straddled on top punching.   
  
Hannibal stood on top of a palate that once held fire wood and Since the new spring weather just arrived there was only shavings and a few sizable chunks of left over wood and the plastic that once wrapped them. He picked up two one in each hand. Mindful of the security cameras, he struck the two on the sides out simultaneously, in one clean sweep to the back of their heads. They fell to the ground more like logs then the wooden chunks used to hit them.   
  
By time the middle offender realized his fellow assailants were down, the leftover plastic wrapped was securely wrapped around the main attacker- now obviously identified as Matthew.   
  
The doctor buried his face behind the boys back in case of an unseen camera.   
  
Matthew went limp in the Ripper's hands.   
  
The moment he dropped, Dr. Lecter picked up the young, semi-conscious Will and carried him the 1/2 mile back to his hidden rental car.   
  
12:58 am.   
  
Will faintly saw the dim light of a car dash board clock. His head was fuzzy. His skin ached. He could see nothing. He slumped down again and slept.


	6. Contradictions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up in the home of Dr. Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took much too long and I am so sorry. Thank you for all the support and patience, I will update soon. I will not stop shamelessly promoting my tumblr here, (ofalarger-infinity) until y'all follow me. If i take too long to update or you just want to chat, leave me a message!

The high school called an emergency faculty meeting before school the next day. Apparently, three of the students were escorted of the hospital early that morning, discovered behind a convenient store dumpster, was only one of the two tragedies. Another Ripper victim. A local business man with a past in hotel management was found with his intestines threaded through the play equipment of a local park. The gruesome scene was discovered when authorities arrived to take the attacked teens to the hospital. Through these two unfortunate events did occur almost simultaneously, the police officer stationed at the high school stated they were believed to be completely unrelated.

The man that attacked the three swimmers, leaving 2 concussed and another with a slightly damaged windpipe, clearly made this assault with passion.

The man who splayed a man’s organs across the neighborhood playground with all the artistry he could manage, could not be capable of such emotion. Of such passion.

The officer said.

These statements could hardly attempt to contain the gossip that was expected. An announcement would be made and a consoler, unfortunately Dr. Lecter, would visit with these young men’s friends and teammates. Cards would be signed and sent to the hospital.

Yet nothing at all was said for poor Will. Of course, no one knew why or that Will was absent, but still Dr. Lecter felt that he too deserved a card.

Throughout the day, the doctor had no time to call in a single friend or teammate, as the seat in front of his desk was constantly occupied by some weeping young girl or pale faced boy.

When the final bell rang for the day, the doctor knew entirely too much about entirely too many obnoxious students.

 

Will woke up in a near literal cloud of sheets with a thread count higher than his white blood cell count. His left eye swollen shut, the pain of which leaked down his face and into his jaw where he counted one fewer teeth. Pain radiated from every inch of his body. Even with only one working eye and dim lighting, he could clearly tell this room was not his and was not a hospital. The clock beside the bed was as far as he could see. The ornamental hands reached out to elegant numbers indicating it was 3:30. 2 hours? Where was he? He could hardly bring himself to move but eventually his feet found an immensely plush carpet beneath him. One brave attempt to stand brought him toppling face first.

The carpet was soft. He had no desire to get up. It was only a minute before he was asleep again.

He awoke to warm strong arms wrapping around his broken body.

“Now, now, William. You shouldn’t try to walk.”

Will pushed against that painfully familiar voice, trying to fight back.

“Will… Will. Stop it.” He demanded. Will was back in bed. “I’m only trying to help.” the doctor said crouching beside the bed.

“I never asked for your help.” Will spat. He attempted to sit up but his heavy head and a strong arm held him down.

“You could have died without it. Would that be preferable, Will?” the doctor asked. He was truly curious. For all he knew it may be.

Will didn’t respond. Is head fell back into the pillow though it seemed to sink farther and farther down, into his recent memories. His head spun with what could have happened, what might have happened. As the doctor busied himself with the cast along Will’s calf, Will couldn’t figure how the school counselor fit into this equation. He didn’t want to embarrass himself with having the doctor explain the situation he was found in.  His mind struggled to fil all these pieces together.

He was attacked, and so he was injured.

He fell out of bed, so the doctor put him back into his bed.

His bandages were old, so the doctor was changing them.

Everything fit together it seemed, everything except for one thing. Something felt off, but in his drugged up state, Will couldn’t put his finger on it.

The scene that just played out echoed in his head. Eventually the soft Lithuanian voice and the even softer sheets clicked as unusual.

“Where am I? And why are you here?” Will sat up as much as he could.

The man stopped what he was doing and turned to face will. “Quite frankly, I was trying to avoid the suspicion of bringing a student to a hospital at midnight. However you needed medical help immediately. It is probably best for you, dear Will, to not be involved with the police case now surrounding your three friends.”

“Three friends?”

“None of them will be swimming anytime soon, two concussions and what is most likely a severe case of cerebral hypoxia. Best for you not to be involved.” The doctor said matter-of-factly.

The words swam around Will’s mind. Images of his attackers falling to the ground before him through a fog of blood and tears came to the forefront of his mind.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

“Someone had to help you, dear Will, and the world is much more interesting with you in it.”

The doctor checked his watch and stood. “As much as I detest leaving you, there will be a candle lit service, which I assure you I will detest much more, being held at the high school. It is required and expected of me to attend.”

“What?!”

“I know, no one as viral as those three deserves a vigil.”

“Have I been asleep all day? Take me home!” will struggled to sit up. The doctor pinned him back onto the mattress with one arm and reached over to the nightstand with the other.

“I really must insist that you rest, Will.” The doctor picked up syringe from the table beside him. Before will could say another word he was losing strength.

“Dr. Lecter… let me go.” Will breathed, unbroken leg and arm drowsily fighting back.

The doctor held his shoulders until he went limp and simply watched, for just a moment, the beautiful boy in front of him. The Chesapeake Ripper brushed the unruly strands of hair on Will’s forehead back.

The words of the police officer rang in his head as he considered all the best ways to win and eat a man’s heart.


End file.
